48 LISA COBB S PRETTY POppy PANORAMA The bloom is on the long shirt slitted and softly fitted. Garden-colored poppies gaily grow on grey and black stripes and checks in easy-to- travel-with acetate. With black plastic patent belt for 6 to 18 sizes, $48 Exclusively S.F.A., Sport Dress Collections 611 Fifth Avenue, New York and all stores. ..: -q....-:-. 4í " t ........ , .. "\ , '\ y '>/ .. ...... h '., i :t , """"' -, .. -.':,. t ;0<: it "\ ' ,' ,. 11- '" " <t' " " .. <" " ..:.,.wn" f ...</if : ,,",, ,,' \1"" ., "r-' ,,' i << J\\ " " ,-to., .;.: .,f..:. *" ;:" -: ,f Ui 'h "'.... . . " " ..... "'-" ..... '\ .% 1&... $-. 4y \' .$ -,. i ': ;,'j;', , .. <- .." t ,,::' !!&, ' .. ":' ..:Y...". _.. V":RY T Please add 75c for handling mail and phone orders sent beyond our regular delivery areas. t ...... .. :J " \ Coast Line ran beside the road. Miller was a thickset Il1an with unbelievably long, sharp fingerndils, a driver ùf oil trucks. It seeIl1t:d wonderful that he could get his hands around the wheel without cuttIng hÍ1nself, that he could deliver oil without cutting the hose. He said, "Do you 11lind Il1Y asking why you're interested in streanl channe1i- zation? " ""{XT'. d . f " s \IV e re Intere te In rags, anl said. "Snakes and frogs. \Ve thought the project 111ight be stirring SOIl1e up." Miller said, "1 don't mind the frog, but I want no part of the snake." HIs dIrections were perfect-through pine forests, a right, two lefts, to where a dirt road crossed a tributary of the Ogeechee. A wooden bridge there had been replaced by a culvert. Th stream now flowed tlll ough hig pipes in the culvert. Upriver, far as the eye could see, a riparian swath had been cut by chain saws. Back from the banks, about fifty feet on each side, the overstory and tl1( understory-every tree, bush, and sapling--had been cut down 'The river was under revision. It had been freed of 111eanders. 1 t was now two Ydrds wide between vertical six-foot banks; and it 'was no'w as straight as a ditch. It had, in fact, becolne a ditch- in it a stream of thin Il1ud, flowing. i\n illl11lense yellow Il1achine, slowly back- ing upstream, had in effect eaten this river. It was at work now, grunting and belching, two hundred yards froIl1 the culvert. \Ve tried to walk toward it along the bank but sank to our shins in black ooze. The StUll1pS of the cut treeS were all but covered with mud froln the bottom of the river. vVe crossed the ditch. rrhe drcdged 111ud was SOll1e- what firIl1er on the other side. SaIl1 and 1 walked there. Carol waded UPCUI- ren t in the streaIl1. The Il1achine 'was an AIl1erican dragline crane. The word " A ." d mLflcan stoo out on its cab in letters more than a foot high. 1 ts bOOIl1 reached up a hundred feet. Its buck- et took six-foot bites. i\s we approached, the bucket kept eating the riverbed, then swinging up and out of the chan- nel and disgorging tons of 11lUd to either side. Carol began to take pic- tures. She took more and I110re pic- tun::s as she waded on upstreaIl1. \Vhen she was fifty feet away from the drag- line, its engine coughed down and stopped. The sudden serenity was oddly disturbing. The operator stepped out of the cab and onto the catwalk One hand on the flank of his crane, he in- . ,'. elined hie; head sOIl1ewhat forward 'lnd "tared down at Carol. He was a stock) Il1an with an open shirt and dn open face, deeply tanned. He said, "HoVv'd). ", "Howdy," said Carol. " Y ' k . ." 1 au re ta Ing SOIl1e PICtU res, Ie said. "1 sure am. 1'111 taking SaIne PIC- tures. 1'111 interested in the range ex- tension of river frogs, and the places they live. I bet you turn up SOIl1e inter- esting things." " 1 f " I . J see some rogs, tIe nlan SdJ . "J see lots of frogs." "You sure know what you're doing with that 111achine," Carol said. The Il1an shifted his weight. "That's ;) big thing," she went on. "How much does it weigh? " " E . h " __JIg ty-two tons. "Eighty-two tons?" " E . h " Ig ty-two tons. "\Vow! How far can you dig in one day?" "Five hundred feet" " A . 1 d " S 1 mI e every ten ays, all1 sdic, shakIng his head with awe. "SometiIl1es I do hetter than that." "You live around here?" "No. My hOlne's near Baxley. 1 go where I'ln sent. r'\JI over the state." "\Vell, sorry. Didn't mean to in- " terrupt you. " Not ' t all. T k 11 th t S ae a e pJC UIC, " you want. "Thanks. \Vhat did you say ),our "''' nallle wasr " Ch " 1 . d " Cl C " ap, Ie sal. lap ausey. We 'walked around the dragline, went upstream a short way, and sat down on the trunk of a large oak, felled by th e chain saws, to eat our lunch-sardines, chocolate, crackers, and wine. Causey at work 'was the entertainment, pulling his levers, swinging his bucket, having at the streaIl1. If he had been at first wary, he no doubt had had experience that made hitn 1ã so. i\ll over the United States, but partIcularly in the Southeast, his occupation had be- come a raw issue. He was workIng for the Soil Conservation Service, a sub- division of the United States Depart- nlent of Agriculture, lnaking a "water- 1 1 . " resource c lanne 1I11prOVeIl1ent -gen- erally known as streaIl1 channelization, or reaIl1Ing a river. Behind his drag- line, despite the clear-cutting of the rivet ine trees, was a free-flowing natll- ral streaIl1, descending toward the Ogeechee in bends and eddies, 1 iffies c:lIld deeps-in appeardnce sOIl1ewhere -